


The Royal Quill School for Gifted Learners

by zombie_bagel



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: "Gifted" in air quotes, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Boarding school traumatised me so I might as well traumatise my faves, But on like exams, Cheating, Daisy hates it here, Entities still exist, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, F/M, Girl me too, God I hope no one I know sees this, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jon works too much, M/M, Martin Blackwood Needs a Hug, More like rich af, Mutual Pining, Other, THE PRIVILEGE IN THIS BUS IS ASTRONOMICAL, The Great British Bake Off References, When in doubt make it british, atleast in the beginning lol, basically everyone is here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombie_bagel/pseuds/zombie_bagel
Summary: This is me projecting A-Level stress onto fictional characters, what's your deal?Mostly from Martin's point of view but it does switch.I tried to include characters I feel like didn't get that much depth *cough* *cough* Sasha *cough*
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	1. Smirke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin reflects on his relationship with the people he's met at the school.  
> Headmaster Bouchard makes some announcements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will forever live for Sacha's competence being recognized. Canon did NOT appreciate this icon enough.

Martin peered at his reflection in the mirror one final time. The school year had begun weeks ago and he still couldn’t get used to the uniform the Sixth Form were forced to wear. The navy tie lay crooked against his chest as he slid his gaze across his room to where Jon appeared to be having the same problem. Jon however, appeared to completely surrender as Martin watched him tuck the errant tie into his jumper. Martin’s fumbling didn’t go unnoticed as Tim, rising from where he had been sprawled on his bed, offered to help him with his tie, yet again. Martin cringed at the attention and nodded as Tim quietly began redoing the knot.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled “It’s our thing now.”

Martin returned the smile and allowed Tim to fade into the soft rambling which so often characterized their interactions, offering a few mutterings of agreement where prompted.

Martin couldn’t help but peek at Jon over Tim’s shoulder, only to be met with a hardened glower directed at the two of them. Upon being noticed, Jon snapped his gaze back down to where he was clumsily shoving his laptop into his satchel. He slung the bag over his shoulder and hurried across the room, arms tightly against his sides. Jon had only just reached for the handle when the door whipped open revealing a wolfish grin. Jon pushed past the young man, grumbling to himself. Tim made final adjustments to the tie and gave Martin a pat on the shoulder. Eyebrow raised, he shifted his attention towards the door.

“Mike you know most people knock, before they burst into someone else’s dorm.”

“To be honest, I only did it because I hoped it would annoy Jon.” He shrugged looking towards the hallway “But it seems you managed that already.”

Tim’s expression shifted from confused to outright annoyed.

“Seriously? He barely speaks to us, I doubt we’re the reason he’s always so pissed off.”

Mike slung his arm over Tim’s shoulder as Martin retreated to grab his bag.

"Yes, yes I'm sure." He said "What I would  _ actually _ like to know is if you two plan on actually being there to see Sasha become Head Girl?"

Tim straightened, rushing past the door before realising Mike had made no move to follow. With a cautionary glance at his watch he frowned.

"That's not funny." He said, shoving Mike playfully.

"I respectfully disagree." Mike grinned 

Martin rose, having just about finished tying his laces.

"We really should get going." He added "I'm sure Sasha would appreciate some encouragement."

Mike retreated from where he had been leaning across the door, to gesture in a mock-curtsy.

"Off we go then."

The walk over had been nothing unfamiliar. It had been underpinned by the babbling, raucous conversation that flowed so easily between the other two boys. At first, Martin had been jealous of how easily they spoke to one another, how their voices wove seamlessly over one another. Sometimes speaking not even to be listened to, simply to be heard. He was content to be the background for them, even tried to write a few poems about it, but they never really worked as well as he'd liked. Slowly but surely their group joined up with those from the other houses; Sasha and Daisy from Magnus House, while Danny meandered all the way over from Orsinov.

As the three merged into the group, Martin couldn't help but notice that Sasha, to be frank, looked like  _ hell _ . Which for Sasha meant smudged glasses and a less than perfectly tucked in blouse. Tim however, appeared to notice instantaneously. So whilst Mike was needling Daisy into what was somehow her second fist-fight of the day, Tim quietly took Sasha's hand in his own and in hushed tones gave Sasha what Martin could only imagine was some sort of pep-talk. Martin pretended not to see the whole thing, but for the rest of the walk he allowed himself a small prideful smile at the kindness of the people around him. 

Usually morning assembly was a tedious affair at best, but anyone could tell you the atmosphere on that crisp Friday morning was something else. Royal Quill was already a prestigious school, simply to obtain attendance was a feat in itself. An even more impressive achievement was to be selected as the ideal example of those students. Each year, two such students were chosen and if you asked Martin, just about anyone with sense knew Sasha was the obvious pick for the position. So the announcements laboured on; Agnes Montague won another cross-country competition, the school's lacrosse team was doing wonderfully, we've won yet another Maths competition and so on and so forth. The teachers knew better than anyone the real news people were waiting for, you could hear it in the bored lilt of their voices as they announced their respective updates. So when Headmaster Bouchard finally stepped up to the podium, not a single eye strayed from his figure. 

"Good morning students! I'm sure you are all aware that today we will be announcing the selections for the Heads of school."

A quiet murmuring followed, students and teachers alike cementing their own guesses as to who's name was scrawled neatly on the slip of paper so neatly tucked into the headmaster's hands.

_ "I reckon it's Laura…" _

_ "No way… he'd probably-...Sasha.." _

_ "Imagine if… Melanie…" a muffled giggle. _

_ "Oliver's really…" _

_ "Sasha…" _

_ "I heard Lucas… " _

_ "Everyone… Sasha..." _

Martin quietly watched as next to him Sasha's fists clenched tightly into the fabric of her skirt. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he watched Tim once again take her hand in his own and begin to speak quietly to her.

"Relax, it'll be  alright."

Sasha appeared to steel herself, eyebrows furrowing as her breathing deepened, followed by the abrupt plastering of a polite smile on her face.

The Headmaster continued.

"Will you all please quiet down." He paused, not outwardly smug but Martin knew an attention-whore when he saw one.

"The first student who has been selected as Head is Graham Folger from Von Closen House."

From somewhere behind him, Martin felt a young boy stand, the twisting necks of curious students following him. The applause following was not generous, but nowhere near cruel. To be honest Martin had never heard of the boy, but couldn't help but be charmed when a dapper-looking young man with straight blonde hair and a courteous smile strode up the aisle to shake the hand of the Headmaster. As Graham took his seat on the stage, Martin reminded himself it would be best to quash any inklings of a foolish school-boy crush while he still could. He already had one too many of those, thank you very much. As the crowd relapsed into silence, Headmaster Bouchard readied himself by clearing his throat and obnoxiously tapping the paper against the podium. _ Drama Queen _ . Martin thought to himself.

"The second student we have chosen is from Magnus-"

A roar of whisperings followed, some who seemingly had heard enough to confirm their suspicions. Martin glanced at Sasha to see a hint of sincerity had peeked through her smile.

"Quiet! That is enough!"

The Headmaster huffed.

"The second student we have chosen as Head is Miss Annabelle Cane." He finished.

"Congratulations to the both of you."

The applause was deafening.

Martin watched almost as through fog as Annabelle Cane rose from the row ahead of them and glided along the aisle to grasp the hand of the Headmaster, mouth agape, astonished smile clear on her face. Martin didn't know how but he knew it was fake. She was expecting this. He didn't dare look at Sasha, he imagined that she wouldn't cry. Not for a while at least.

It wasn't until he went to pick up his bag he realised how sore his palms were. 

It wasn't until weeks later he'd realise what that had meant.


	2. Poetry and Prose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon being a mess but also insanely anal about everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its 5:34am and I'm publishing this. NO i did not proofread. It's called lack of self-preservation.

Jon pushed through the clusters of students crowded within the halls, seemingly insistent of making him late to his lesson. He frowned as he overheard slivers of conversation, the same things over and over. Blatherings of gossip over the newly appointed Head Boy and Head Girl. It was his personal opinion that Annabelle had nowhere near the holistic competence required to be Head Girl, not when Sacha’s abilities so clearly surpassed her in every way that mattered. But that was his _personal_ opinion, and unlike apparently every other person in this school, he was more than capable of keeping his opinions to himself. 

He relaxed upon reaching his English classroom, grateful for the lull in noise that came with escaping the hallway. His class had steadily been making their way through _‘_ _Tess of the d'Urbervilles’_ throughout the term. It was a bit of a difficult read, Jon prided himself on being one who found comfort in decisive, straightforward prose. He was never one for the flowery or romantic language that plagued the musings of love stories, or god forbid _poems_. He was in the middle of rereading his notes from the previous lesson when he was interrupted by a clumsy weight collapsing into the seat next to him. He glanced over, expecting to see Laura Radcliffe perched in her usual seat. Jon couldn’t help but do a double-take when he spotted Martin Blackwood awkwardly settled in the seat next to him. He instinctively whipped around to survey Martin’s usual seat, and found Laura sat comfortably. Apparently she and Diego had taken to each other, pressing themselves almost indecently close, having claimed their own little secluded area in the back of the classroom. Which left Martin with a new seat and Jon wholly unprepared to interact with the subject of his affections. He looked back to Martin who had taken it upon himself to look as apologetic as possible, already sputtering out apologies before Jon had time to process what had happened. Jon watched as Martin’s face steadily took on increasingly intense shades of red. Jon really should have said something, comforted him in some way. He should have said something cheerful and charming like Tim, but all he could do was watch. Watch and try his hardest to burn the image into his mind of Martin sitting so close to him, his whole face bright pink and filled with expression. Jon imagines the blush would have reached his ears, had they not been hidden by the messy curls of his hair. The thought occurred to him that he was close enough to brush the hair away from his face, so he could see Martin in his fullness. He had never been so close to Martin, close enough to count every freckle spattered across his face, close enough to see the way his fingers curled as he gesticulated. At some point, Jon supposed Martin had run out of things to say. So there they sat, silent, Jon quietly piecing back together his mental faculties and Martin looking dreadfully embarrassed. Then slowly, he readjusted his glasses and continued to edit the notes he had taken last lesson. Mutely, Martin appeared to accept that the interaction was over. He began to remove his books from his bag, just as Mr Lukas drifted through the door. 

The lesson had been nothing special, as odd as Mr Lukas was, his lessons were fairly straightforward. Most of it was independent study and discussion, the occasional person would ask a question and either be met with an even more confusing answer or a subdued shrug, followed by something like “That’s up to your interpretation”. For a man who apparently taught a literary subject, there seemed to be nothing he despised more than having a discussion. Jon remembers the first week when he had made the mistake of staying behind to go over some of the material, only for Mr Lukas to glare at him the whole time.

As people began to pack up their belongings, Jon stole a look at Martin. Jon was fairly sure that they both had a study period next. It wouldn’t be odd to offer to walk back to Smirke together, would it? They were dormmates, after all, surely it wouldn’t be that strange. Jon straightened up and turned to Martin fully. Now with his attention directly on him, Jon saw that Martin looked pale. He was hunched over the desk, slowly packing his things. The tension throughout his body was clear as he sluggishly placed books into his bag with shaking hands. Regardless of his own desires, Jon discerned it would most likely be for the best if he walked with Martin back to the house. Looking at him, Jon wouldn’t have been surprised if Martin keeled over on his way there. Jon took a breath. He was grateful, at this point all but a few of the students had cleared out.

“Martin.”

Martin’s head whipped up to meet his gaze, looking almost shocked.

“Would you like to walk back to House together?” Jon continued.

Jon was met with nothing but a dull stare.

“We might as well, I don’t think anyone else in our English is in Smirke.” Nevermind that no one else was there, meaning rejecting Jon’s offer would mean he would rather walk alone than go with him. Jon swore he was sweating. 

All at once, Martin appeared to process what had been said to him.

“No that’s alright. Thank you.” Martin looked down at his hands. “I have an extra lesson after this.”

Whether or not Martin had lied, Jon for some reason stood there a moment longer. He had been a fool to assume he knew enough about Martin to know his schedule correctly. He clutched the strap of his satchel a bit tighter.

“Oh, um. Alright then.” Jon said, before making his way to the door. He paused outside the door, suddenly noting how odd it was that Martin didn’t appear to be in any particular hurry to get to his ‘extra lesson’. He internally kicked himself. Martin had clearly lied to avoid walking with him, and now he had to wait until Jon had left before he could make his way back to House. With his awkward attempt at being friendly, Jon had made Martin uncomfortable. Why would he think that Martin would want to spend time with him? He’s essentially behaved like a misanthrope the few times they’ve properly interacted. He began the trek back to his boarding house.

Martin had been nothing but kind to him since Jon had arrived at the school. Offering tea and light conversation to help Jon settle in, only for Jon to grunt noncommittally anytime he was invited into a conversation. He had hoped that Georgie already being here would help account for his absolute lack of social skills, but as soon as he had arrived he had felt guilty for relying on her too much. They still spoke often, but as soon as one of Georgie’s unfamiliar friends appeared, Jon would find himself making excuses to leave. He pushed through the front door of Smirke, only to be left walking alongside a lost-looking young man. The young man looked familiar enough that at first Jon assumed it was just one of the new students who was having issues navigating the building. He was content to leave well-enough alone, when he noticed the young man was wearing a light blue tie, indicative of those in the younger years. He turned to search the young man’s face a second time and found the root of the familiarity he had felt. 

“Are you looking for Tim?” Jon asked, his tone apathetic.

The young man perked up, smiling graciously, dimples on display. Jon could definitely see the resemblance.

“Yes. Thank you so much! I was just about ready to give up.” The young man replied, as he cheerfully began following Jon through the winding architecture of the building. Jon hadn’t offered anything resembling a reply, but the young man appeared content to tail Jon, while filling up his ears with nonsense. Jon was being subjected to some sort of urban myth revolving around the death of one of the school’s founders when he reached his room. He opened the door and the young man didn’t hesitate following him inside. Upon spotting Tim he appointed his attention.

“Tim!” he gestured to the young man. “This child. Is it yours?”

Tim who had previously been preoccupied shoving the doors of his wardrobe shut appeared to be relieved when he saw Jon arrive. Though, his attention quickly shifted to the young man who seemed to be openly gawking at the ceiling.

“Danny!” Tim rushed to embrace him in a tight hug. 

As he did Jon watched the wardrobe door Tim had been so desperately holding shut fly open ,and Sacha clumsily roll out of the compartment. She pressed her fist to her mouth to stifle her laughter, as she pressed against the floor to call out to the underneath of one of the beds. Jon’s mood soured even further as he watched Daisy Tonner crawl out from underneath _his_ bed.

“Tim if you’re so intent on hiding young women in our dorm, could you at least ask them to remain amongst your possessions? I'd rather not be _implicated_ when you get caught.”

Tim laughed, seemingly having brightened after having been reunited with his brother.

“Calm down, we’re not going to get caught.” He insisted as Daisy settled cross-legged on the floor.

“But if it really bothers you then fine. We’ll make sure to keep away from your stuff.” Tim said

Jon huffed satisfied for the time being, even though he was fairly sure it wouldn't last. He would allow it. For now.


	3. Go Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy and Sasha play a game.

Daisy flicked another playing card at Tim. She snickered as it ricocheted off of his forehead. Tim had been attempting to return the favour for almost forty-five minutes, and with every feeble, sweeping card that eventually made its way onto the floor, the grin on Daisy's face grew further. But if she were honest, Daisy was far more amused by the increasingly tight grip that Jon was subjecting his pen to. Occasionally, she would pick the cards from the floor just to watch the relief possess his features, only to resume flicking the cards across the room. She did this all with the knowledge that she was leaning against the foot of _Jon's_ bed. It had been almost an hour since he had skulked into the room looking like a disgruntled badger and if anything his mood had only soured further since then. Danny and Sasha were sitting on Tim's bed excitedly chatting, which left Daisy to continue with her antics unobstructed by Sasha's usual voice of reason. With the cards littered all over the room, Daisy tucked her hands underneath her chin and pounced.

"So Jon, you didn't happen to see Martin on your way back did you?"

Jon's pen stilled.

"No, I don't think so." He replied curtly.

Daisy simpered at the terse reaction. Jon had always avoided Martin, to the extent that the group had pretty much accepted he hated him. Which meant Tim, as Martin's self-appointed keeper, ended up hating Jon more than Daisy thought possible. It led to a fragile tension within the dorm, with Martin bending backwards to accommodate Jon while Tim antagonised him with thinly veiled passive-aggression.

"You don't think so? Or you didn't see him?"

She watched Jon place his pen down dangerously slow and press his palms to the desk. He was still facing away from her.

"It's a yes or no question, Jon. It's not hard?"

Jon whipped around to face her, and just like that the argument Daisy had been itching for all day was finally within her reach. Daisy had already prepared the final set of needling she needed to drive Jon over the edge. But apparently Danny only served as a decent distraction as long as Tim hadn't steered him away from Sasha. So as Daisy prepared to wind Jon up further, Sasha cut in moments before disaster.

"So Jon, what's Ms Robinson like?" she asked, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed.

Jon schooled his features into a somewhat calmer scowl, but a scowl nonetheless. Even slightly annoyed at the interruption, Daisy couldn’t help be curious at where Sasha intended on taking this conversation. Ms Robinson, the school librarian, was one of the most gossiped over figures amongst the staff. Known for being terrifyingly strict and never seen outside of the Leitner library building. Daisy had heard more than one rumour suggesting Robinson was some sort of spirit or ghost. Combined with every other attention-seeking Year 11 claiming to have witnessed shapes moving through the windows late at night, it made for a cult interest in the old woman. Daisy had been dragged into far too many instances of Tim trying to convince others into the Occult Research Club using Ms Robinson as a point of interest.

Jon's brow softened upon being addressed by Sasha, her ubiquitous likeability felt by even him.

"She keeps to herself. Likes things organized." He replied plainly.

Sasha hummed.

"You're one of the library volunteers so you help out a lot don't you Jon." her legs swung back and forth.

Jon raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, that's the job."

Sasha dropped down from the bunk, stocking covered feet barely tapping against the rug. 

Daisy studied the card between her fingers. It was one of those trick cards they sometimes include in decks; the ones that have the design on both sides. When she was younger she was convinced those cards were just two normal cards stuck together. She'd spend ages trying to separate them, and end up ripping the card to shreds. 

"So you help organize the _whole_ library? All by yourself?" Sasha said.

Sasha interwove her fingers behind her back.

 _"Yes."_ Jon's patience was running thin."It takes time, but it's not exactly difficult."

Daisy pushed her thumb against the underneath of the card.

It is at this point Jon realized that Tim and his brother had gone quiet. Tim was staring at Jon, crooked smile spreading across his face as he approached him. Slipping his hands in his trouser pockets and swaggering toward him till he was leaning right up against Jon's desk.

"Even the restricted section?"

Daisy flicked another card.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikessss its really been a while. Sorry but uni has been kicking my ASS!! I just thought I'd update with the chapter Id finished.
> 
> Thus chapter is highkey short af because i cant remember what i was going to do with it when i first drafted it so...
> 
> Hopefully Ill be able to do more regular updates from now on but in not gonna promise a schedule until Im sure. It looks like this might turn into a way to destress from exams so... 
> 
> ALSO!!! BIG THANKS!!! to the ppl who left comments. I probs wouldve abandoned this fic by now if u hadn't so tysm <3 
> 
> hehehe hope u liked the chapter!! share it with ur friends??? or smth??? lol idk


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